A Light in Darkness
by Aries201
Summary: Aries here. Eragon finds a hidden room and comes across a confusing phrase, receiving an unexpected visitor....
1. Chapter 1

Well, here it is. My first Eragon fanfic. Please read, enjoy, and REVIEW. Please review. I'm BEGGING YOU!

DISCLAIMER: None of these characters, besides Tenebrus, is mine. They are all property of the author. You've seen so many of these in mostly everyone's stories; you probably want to strangle me right now. Heh.

Chapter One: AFTERMATH OF WAR 

Eragon stood silently atop a small ledge, overlooking the Burning Plains. It was still strewn with blood and gore after ten days after battle.

_I am a disgrace._ Eragon thought. He buried his face in his hands. The thought of him, Eragon, being son of Morzan was more than he could bear. He could not face Nasuada now. He could not bear to see her eyes, now that he knew what he really was.

And Murtagh…. Was he telling the truth? Did he speak lies? Was he really bound to Galbatorix? He did not, after all, speak in the ancient language when he told him those things… Those terrible things…

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped and whipped around.

Arya was standing there. She bore a solemn expression on her face. She did not look at him, instead, she regarded the Burning Plains intently. Finally she spoke.

"What's done is done. It cannot be changed."

He did not know whether she was speaking of him being son of Morzan, or the battle that had occurred some days before.

"It cannot be changed." Eragon repeated. Still he was depressed. Still he could not look at her eyes, just like Nasuada. What would Brom say?

"He must have known." Eragon said more to himself than to Arya. "He knew so many things that he did not tell me. He must have known."

Arya did not say anything. Perhaps she was not listening, or maybe she did not hear him. Maybe she was lost in her own thoughts.

He went on talking to himself softly, his words slowly drifting into the ancient language. Eragon hoped Arya did not hear him.

But still she was listening.

A/N: I apologize; I know that this is so short. So anyways, enjoy waiting for the next chapter. I have two other ideas for other fanfictions, but I think I have to get into this one before I can make a commitment to others. Anyways, blah blah blah and a bottle of rum, I'll end this stupid note.


	2. Targa

Let me say right here and now that I know that I submitted the first chapter like two minutes ago. But it was so…coughdamncough….short. So here is the second chapter, where I hope things will get more exciting, and it will get longer. Ha ha, the idea comes into place! So anyways, here you go.

DISCLAIMER: Tenebris ((I spelt that wrong in the first chapter))is mine; Eragon is not, all the rest are not, blahdeeblah.

Chapter Two: TARGA

Eragon trudged up the side of Targa, the great mountain on the Burning Plains. It was a ways from the battleground and the Varden encampment, and all he wanted to do was be alone.

If it was hard for him face Nasuada, it was even harder to face Arya. Nothing had been settled between f them since his outrageous behavior in Elesmera, but now…now it was even worse. What if she knew? He did not doubt she saw him for what he was.

Eragon had been climbing for a while when he started to grow tired, despite his new physique that he had attained during his stay in Elesmera. Above him, he saw a rocky ledge that jutted out of the mountain. It seemed a good place to rest, so he climbed higher.

When he got to the ledge, his arms and legs hurt and his back ached, even though he had been relieved of the pain in his back while staying with the elves. He grasped the edge of the rock and threw himself onto it. He lay there for a moment, enjoying the cool surface of the rock pressed against his cheek. Then he sat up and leaned against the side of the mountain, resting his back.

He did not sit there long before the rock behind him slid inward, like a door. He fell through the hole it had left.

The light that streamed in through the hole was bleak, and the hole became smaller and smaller as he fell through a dark, murky void.

The hole becoming a speck in the distance was the last he could see before consciousness faded away.

Eragon landed unceremoniously on a hard stone floor. The impact of his body making contact with ground again was so great that he was jerked back into consciousness. He sat up abruptly and looked around him. It was dark, so he could not see exactly well, but better than he could have before he was transformed to look more like an elf. He looked above him. Only darkness met his eyes. He stood up. No low ceiling brushed against his head. He put his arms out. He could feel nothing.

He walked forward like this, and stopped only a few yards away from where he had started. The top of his head brushed a low ceiling. He looked up again. He saw a ceiling, but nothing else.

He peered into the darkness ahead of him. It was just as dark as where he had started, but….

What was that, a few feet away? He saw an odd shape hanging from the ceiling. He started to walk forward, then stepped back again. Whatever the thing was, it might be dangerous, a curious bat or something to that extent.

He decided to find out what it was from where he was standing. He needed some source of light for that. He drew upon his magic, then raised his hand and said, "_Brisingr!_"

A stream of blue fire shot from his palm, aiming for the thing. He gasped; he had intended to keep the fire a good distance away from it, in case it was some sleeping creature and the light from the fire woke it. Now the fire would reach the thing and, if it were a sleeping beast, it would surely wake up.

But Eragon needn't have worried, for the thing was not dangerous, nor living at all.

It was a lantern.

As the fire reached the lantern it went through the glass and lit it. As the lantern lit, another lantern a few feet away lit as well. And another, and another, until Eragon found himself standing in a wide tunnel.

Curiosity got the best of him, and he began to walk along the tunnel. He walked at a good pace, passing lantern after lantern.

After a while he lost count of the lanterns he had passed, and he began to slow down. He had walked for a very long time, and he was beginning to tire even more than he already was when he had first fallen down the hole.

Just as he was about to stop and turn back, just as he was beginning to think that the tunnel he was walking was just an unending labyrinth, the tunnel began to widen and gradually slope upwards. After some minutes, he found himself standing in a hexagonal shaped opening, the opening of a high-ceiling room.

The room was shaped like its opening, and the sides had holes in them, looking like giant honeycombs. And in the holes where scrolls.

Eragon stood in awe, looking at all the scrolls. Curiosity returned, and he stepped into the room. He walked up to one of the holes and touched a scroll gently. It was dusty and yellow with age. Carefully, he took it out of its hole and unfurled it carefully. The paper was very delicate, and it had writing in a strange language. The language was written in a strange alphabet, also, or what seemed an alphabet to Eragon. It was comprised of strange symbols that he could not read, but looked at in fascination. He put it back and took out another one.

He was there for a long time, looking at the scrolls, before he came across a scroll that was different from the rest. This scroll he could read, but it was still in a strange language that he did not understand. And this scroll was sparse of handwriting; unlike the rest, it had only a single phrase on it:

_Lux in Tenebris._


End file.
